ist may rave against it, but ask
him in what way his gratitude manifests itself when a railway porter
politely relieves him of half-a-dozen bags, and deposits them in a snug
corner, whilst he has barely time to take his ticket at the
booking-office. It is surely impossible to abuse the same porter if, out
of a feeling of recognition for favours previously received, he leaves
the belated passenger to manage the best way he can under a cartload of
shawls, rugs, hat and bonnet-boxes, to attend again to your comforts.
You hardly sympathise with your fellow-traveller, although he may be
using very strong language against the identical porter, in whose
favour, for the second time, you part with a few coppers. It is the
desire to secure the comforts and commodities provided by the activity
of others that will perpetuate tipping. After all, this is not limited
to menials. It is given, and unscrupulously accepted by all grades of
society, and by all conditions of men. I have known a company director
give to a titled nobody a berth promised to someone else, because he had
been familiarly addressed by His Lordship in a public place, and had
been "honoured" by a few minutes' conversation. That was not, of course,
a tip in the ordinary sense of the word, but it amounted, however, to
the same thing. It secured a good berth to his "Excellency." And what
say you of the whiskies and waters, brandies and sodas, the champagne,
oysters, luncheons, and dinners to which our good city men generously
ask a would-be customer? That, I suppose, is called "paving the way to a
good business." I have not unfrequently heard people regret that they
were unable to refuse a favour in return for a civility. That civility
was most likely a dinner, or even something less. Kisses distributed by
ladies in hotly-contested constituencies, the promise of a Government
post, an invitation to a party, a mere familiar recognition, a penny,
are all varieties which make the thing so general.

* * * * *

[Sidenote: He believes the custom will die out with human nature.]

Wedding presents are not given without an _arriere pensee_, and at
Christmas our object is mostly to please the parents. Our indignation,
however, is not roused by this, because we are in the habit, I suppose,
of distributing and receiving such acknowledgments ourselves. We want to
suppress small tips; in fact, such as are most wanted by the recipient,
whose only sourc